


He's Always Liked a Challenge

by Skyuni123



Series: The Honeypot Chronicles [3]
Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, F/M, Honeypot, Honeypot Missions, Humor, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sarcasm, Team Bonding, what happens when you have to sleep with someone for a mission and you DO want to?, will brandt and clint barton are the same person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-03 20:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12755703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123
Summary: Will Brandt and a couple who're into BDSM.What could go wrong?(Or, honeypot missions aren't that bad when you're kinda into the people you have to sleep with.)





	1. Chapter 1

It’s Brandt’s turn to chat up the mark.

 

It’s not that he’s _bad_ at this sort of thing, because he’s not. He’s quite good at it, if he does say so himself. Ethan would probably say he’s better, but Ethan’s wrong.

 

(Ethan would never say he’s better, because Ethan is humble and Brandt is resoundingly  _ not. _ )

 

(Which is fair enough.)

 

(Considering.)

 

This time around it’s… interesting, though. The mark isn’t one, but two, and they’re rather into eroticism.

 

(That’s the polite way to say that they’re kinky as fuck.)

 

(Brandt isn’t exactly complaining.)

 

However, Ethan, bless his misguided little heart, seems to think that he’s got a problem with this sort of thing.

 

Ethan is wrong. Very wrong. 

 

If Brandt wasn’t at all subtle, he’d suggest that maybe Ethan’s just getting nostalgic for a honeypot mission. They’ve been getting them a lot lately, but it’s mainly Benji and Ilsa who’ve been getting called up for them, rather than anyone else. However, Brandt does know how to occasionally be quiet, so he holds his tongue.

 

“But I don’t feel right putting my team into these sort of situations.” Ethan’s complaining to Hunley, blatantly disregarding how irritated the older man is beginning to look. “I could do it.”

 

Brandt snorts. Ethan can play a role, sure, but he doesn’t quite -

 

“Brandt’s an asshole.” Hunley explains, with no small amount of annoyance.

 

That’s very true. He’s cultivated his reputation well.

 

“I don’t see how that’s-” Ethan begins, looking confused, but is cut off by Hunley once more.

 

“Brandt’s an asshole and you’re not, Ethan. We don’t want you running off to save puppies when the opportunity arises. Brandt knows how to savour a moment.”

 

The ‘Brandt knows how to sit on his ass’ is implied.

 

Ethan nods, mind obviously made up. “Of course. Thank you for the clarification, sir.”

 

The pair seem to realise that Will’s still in the room at the same time.

 

“Hi guys.” He says, holding his hands up high. “Still here. Having fun talking about me? I’ll do the mission, by the way.” 

 

“Are you sure?” Ethan looks like he wants to argue. That’s very him.

 

“Course. Tricking a couple of Doms into giving up their secrets? What could go wrong?”

 

He’s always liked a challenge. 


	2. the mission

He doesn’t usually take the ‘professional sub’ side of the equation - probably because of his height, stature and his general inability to follow instructions - but he can’t say that it’s a  _ bad  _ role to play.

Certainly beats trying to seduce horrible businessmen or crawling through sewer tunnels.

 

_ Mask  _ is a BDSM club on the outskirts of Vegas. The marks in question are Alexandria and Timothy Williams, the married owners of the club, who have a particular  _ penchant  _ for inviting willing subs into their bed.

 

They also have a particular penchant for international fraud, but no-one’s managed to collect enough evidence to pin that on them yet.

That’s where Brandt comes in.

 

_ Mask  _ has a very exclusive members list, and only allows guests to be present if they’re sponsored by one of the existing members.

It’s certainly fortunate that he knows someone who’s on the guest list, then. 

 

“Do I really want to know why you have a longstanding membership to a BDSM club?” Brandt asks, straightening his cufflinks. 

“Probably not.” Ethan replies, as he fixes his hair in the mirror. 

“If this is some  _ Eyes Wide Shut  _ shit and I get drawn into some kind of weird ritual I’m going to be very disappointed, Hunt.” 

“ _ Eyes Wide Shut  _ represented the scene very badly.” 

“Well _ I  _ know that, it was just Kubrick’s excuse to make a movie about sex and scare people a bit. You look a lot like the guy in that movie, you know.”

 

Ethan turns away from the mirror and eyes him, critically. “If I had a dollar for all the times people have told me that…” He leaves the sentence unfinished and reaches for Will’s tie. “May I?”

“My tie’s fine, Ethan.” He’d tied it himself. He turns away, goes for his jacket, when -

 

“I wouldn’t let any self-respecting submissive of mine go out in public looking that dishevelled.”

 

He turns back around, a witty retort on his lips, but it dies when he notices Ethan’s expression. This isn’t just a joke to him. 

“You’re getting a bit too much into the role, aren’t you?” For fuck’s - He sighs. “Ethan. I’ve said it more than once. This is fine.”

The word ‘overbearing’ is quite easily applied to Ethan Hunt. He cares  _ a lot  _ about the people he works with, and it often comes out in times like this. “I go in, get smacked about a little bit, which is  _ fine,  _ get the intel and leave. It’s all good.” 

 

“Sure?” Ethan reaches for his tie and reknots it, just because he  _ wants  _ to be annoying or something. 

 

“Look, I could refuse the mission if I wasn’t comfortable. This is fine.”

 

“Good.” Ethan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a loop of leather, joined together in the middle with a shiny silver clasp. “I want you to wear this.”

Brandt sighs and eyes the collar with some disdain. “You know, if Benji sees this, I’ll be flayed alive, right? He’ll mock me until I’m dead and probably even after.”

“About time too, don’t you think?” The shorter man snarks, but there’s something soft in his gaze. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to but I thought -”

“It’s fine. Stop thinking so much.” He waves at the collar with a fingertip. “Pass it, then.”

 

But Ethan doesn’t pass it over. He steps forward and clasps the collar around Brandt’s neck. 

 

Brandt swallows, not  _ uncomfortable  _ with the close proximity, but unfamiliar with it in such an intimate context.  _ Oh.  _ That is a new feeling. The collar’s tight, but not restrictive, and settles around his throat just high enough that it’s obvious above the neck of his shirt. 

But it… doesn’t feel bad. 

If this is him developing a new kink, he’s going to be really damn pissed off.  “This isn’t my first rodeo, Ethan.”

“I know it isn’t.” He grins widely and pats him on the back. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  
  


_ Mask  _ doesn’t look like much from the outside. It’s a secluded warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Only the bouncer, dressed in an immaculate red suit, seems to belie the true nature of the place. 

 

“Evening,” Ethan says. He’s softened his accent slightly, made it less harsh on the consonants, more refined. He pulls a card from his pocket. It’s embossed, dark matte black, and has a white lace mask printed on the front. “I believe I’m on your list? Michael Leonard Hewitt?” 

 

Brandt keeps his eyes firmly away from the bouncer’s face while he and Ethan talk. Though he’s done this before - when he was much younger and less… rugged - it still feels a bit strange. The collar’s tight around his neck and it seems to tighten imperceptibly as the bouncer eyes him. It’s not a bad feeling, exactly, but it’s a new feeling. 

 

“Excellent.” Ethan replies, as the bouncer opens the door. “Thank you.”

He tries not to comment on Ethan’s cover name as they walk down a dimly lit hallway, but he can’t help but say, “Hewitt? Really?”

“...I thought it sounded refined.” Ethan almost sounds sheepish. “I was twenty-five when I first came here. At most. You can’t tell me you didn’t do things in your twenties that you regret.”

“Well, most of them were more along the lines of trying psychedelics or sleeping with awful people, not using a fake name to get a lifetime membership to a fancy BDSM club, but sure, try and be relatable, Ethan.” 

Ethan laughs. “Fair point. You ready?”

“Yeah.” Honeypots are strange, often unpredictable, but they’re usually a good time. Usually. 

  
  


Ethan pushes a red frosted glass door open and they enter the play space. 

 

It’s well-polished, all white marble and shining leather, and well-lit. Some might even call it  _ classy.  _ It’s full of people, well-attired to the point where Will almost feels underdressed. 

(Certainly makes a change from the last play space he was in. Scuffed floors and minimal central heating on the backstreets of Moscow does not a fun experience make.)

 

Ethan places a hand on his back, just above his belt and guides him towards the bar. The touch is warm through the thin fabric of his suit, and he wants nothing more than to lean into it.  _ Not now.  _

 

The bartender takes a look at the pair of them, how they’re standing and then blatantly at Brandt’s collar, and says, to Ethan, “Can I get you anything?”

“Vodka martini.” Ethan replies, then turns to him, “Do you want anything?”

“No, sir.”

“Fine.” Ethan accepts his martini, then guides him towards an empty spot by the wall. He leans close and says, “Over there. By the A-frame. Do you see them?”

 

“Yeah.” Brandt leans into Ethan and looks over his shoulder, which frankly, isn’t hard, and spots the couple. She’s short but muscular, pale, and black-haired. He’s got black hair as well, but he’s tall and olive-skinned. Both of them are impeccable, incredibly beautiful.

Oh yeah, this is not going to be a problem,  _ at all. _

 

“I’m going to go over, try and initiate a conversation.” Ethan murmurs into his ear. It’s very distracting. This whole situation is very distracting. It’d probably have been easier seducing the awful businessman. At least there would have been no risk of him enjoying it. 

 

“Yeah, and then?”

“I suggest that they take you away for some time, you go and do your thing and get the intel. I'll try not to drink too many martinis.” 

Will can feel the smile against the side of his face. “Yeah, yeah, I know you have the relaxing job. Let’s just do this, then?”

  
  


Ethan is surprisingly verbose when he wants to be. Of course, he’s also irritatingly charming and has their marks eating up his words within minutes. 

Brandt really just wants to stop kneeling. It’s beginning to be hell on his knees and soon he’ll have to do yoga to sort them out again, and really, at that point he’s already lost. He’s not twenty-five any more. 

 

“He’s not been particularly obedient lately.” Ethan says, rubbing his thumb gently across the back of Brandt’s neck, over the collar.

 

There’s actually a live BDSM demonstration going on in front of them right now, but Brandt’s not really watching. The hand on his neck is lulling him into a false sense of security. He feels dazed, but comfortable at the same time. (If only his knees would stop aching.)

 

“Really, is that true?” Alexandria looks down at him, as though she’s expecting him to answer.

It’s very bad practise to reply to an unfamiliar Dom without your own Dom’s express permission, but it seems to fit the character, so Brandt does it anyway. “Yes, ma'am.” 

“ _ William _ .” Ethan’s hand grips around the back of his neck gently, and he digs his nails in, just a bit. That really shouldn’t feel as good as it does, but then again, he’s fairly well adjusted to pain. “See what I mean? Absolutely no respect for authority, no matter what I’ve tried.” 

“Interesting.” Timothy muses. “We wouldn’t normally take on such a special case, but your reputation with our club is quite exemplary, Michael.”

 

It  _ is?  _ Ethan’s got a whole other life that he knows nothing about.

 

“Your club has been a big part of my life, yes.” Ethan replies. “I’m only asking for one session. Let him see how the  _ professionals  _ do it.”

His honeyed words seem to do the trick. 

 

“We will do a session.” Timothy decides. “If you are fine with this, William?” 

_ Fine with this?  _ Hell, he is more than fine with this. “Absolutely, sir.”

“What is your safeword, William?” Alexandria asks, politely.

“Burj, ma’am.” He says, before he can think of something better.

 

Ethan snorts, and quickly covers his mouth with his hand to stop himself from laughing. 

 

“Of course.” Alexandria’s perfect brows furrow at his admission, but she keeps her cool. “Come along, then.”

 

Will gives Ethan’s hand a squeeze, rises to his feet, and follows the couple out of the play space.

Finally.

He can actually get some  _ work  _ done now.

(‘Work’ is… certainly… one way to describe it.)

 

* * *

 

Dazed isn’t quite the right word for how he feels when he returns to the main area of the club. It’s like the endorphins of a tough sparring session and a really good orgasm combined to make him feel fuzzy, and even a little bit teary.

(He’s  _ never  _ going to admit to that one.)

And, everything aches. It’s not a  _ bad  _ ache, but it is a  _ rare  _ one.

 

He finds Ethan watching a flogging demonstration. He doesn’t look like he’s paying much attention, because his gaze keeps wandering over the crowd. 

 

“We’re good.” Will says, coming up to the table and pressing a flash drive into his hand. “Can we leave...sir?” He yawns in the middle of his sentence, suddenly realising how exhausted he is. This sort of thing is tiring, after all.

“Of course.” Ethan drains his glass, which looks like it’s full of water and stands from the table. “How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy.” He takes a deep breath, which really makes the ‘little bit teary’ thing even worse. “Bit sad. Fine though.” 

Ethan steadies him. “Aftercare?  
  
“Nah.” He pulls away from Ethan’s grip. “It’s fine. Let’s go.” 

“And they call themselves ‘professionals’.” Ethan mutters, and grasps him around the waist. “Let’s go.”

 

Will all but stumbles out of the club. 

And hey, perhaps cuddling in the car isn’t a recommended part of the IMF’s end of mission debriefings, but the IMF can fuck off because this is  _ great.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u dont think ethan hunt would sell his soul for his teammates u and i are watching different films 
> 
> also, thanks for reading!


End file.
